


Leones

by kittening



Category: Voltron: Defenders of Tomorrow, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cyberpunk, Gay Keith (Voltron), Leakira au, M/M, finally they can say fuck, i don't know how to tag help me, klance, leakira - Freeform, there is some non-graphic violence so please take that into consideration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-30 16:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15755658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittening/pseuds/kittening
Summary: “Anything else I shouldn’t mention?”“I’d say to just use your common sense, but you did ask a complete stranger--as far as you knew--to help you kill a man.”“And y’know, that’d be a fair point, except that you agreed.”“Touché,” Akira said, giving a faint smile. “You probably shouldn’t bring that up, either.”Leandro is an agent for an organization dedicated to resisting Galra colonization.Akira shows up with a bike at the right time.It's a strange evening.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! I was so in love with the Leakira AU that I made an account on AO3 specifically to post this fic. That’s how much I love the cyberpunk aesthetic (and Klance). I hope you enjoy it!  
> Leandro = Lance  
> Akira = Keith  
> Alzina = Allura  
> Hiroshi = Shiro  
> Dante = Adam  
> (more to come ;))

Leandro was squatting in a dumpster. He’d made some room for himself, piling oozing black bags in the corners, and he was squeezing the triggers of his pistols so tight his fingers were starting to numb. He’d learned how to breathe silently from Alzina, and he focused on that; he took deep, quiet breaths, straining to hear past his own drumming heartbeat. He was growing increasingly lightheaded from sharing a small, hot space with rotting garbage, and he nearly missed the footsteps approaching his hiding spot. He managed not to flinch as a heavy mass collided with the dumpster. Was some bored employee about to toss a garbage bag on top of him? That would be a real shitty way to start his mission, but he’d had worse.

“You’re early,” a voice growled. Leandro froze. He didn’t recognize that voice. It sounded Galran, guttural and rasping, which was bad news for everyone involved. Leandro risked lifting his head slightly towards the dumpster’s opening, hoping he’d misheard. It could be a _león_ he didn’t know well; maybe a new member, one who hadn’t been initiated yet. He doubted it, though.

“Like I’d risk being late,” Rainer said. “They told me you’d bring the cash. I don’t see it.”

Leandro stifled a sigh.

“We will negotiate payment upon collection of the information,” the Galra said. 

“That’s not what I was promised,” Rainer snapped.

Leandro brought his fingertips to a button on his cuff. Man, this was disappointing. He tapped the button and dove into a pile of trash as glass shattered and Rainer screamed. The explosion was over in an instant, leaving heat and pungent smoke, and Leandro hauled himself to his feet, scanning his surroundings. The Galra man was down for the count, his face bloodied. Motion caught Leandro’s eye, and he glanced down the alley to see Rainer sprinting away, a frantic blur of copper hair and dark clothing. Leandro’s lip curled. Coward. He pressed another button on his cuff as he broke into a run, and heard the  _ click  _ of his comm connecting. 

“Alzina?” 

Alzina answered immediately, her voice loud in his ears. The connection was strong; she was nearby. “Go ahead.”

“Yeah, so you were right.”

“Of course I was. What’s the situation?”

“Unidentified Galra agent knocked out by the blast. Can you take care of him?”

“On my way. And Rainer?”

“I got him.” Leandro switched off the comm and chased after Rainer. He needed to neutralize him before he found a way to escape. Luckily, Leandro was one of the  _ Leones _ ’ best gunmen--anything from close combat to sniping, Leandro could do, and his panache more than made up for his occasional screw-ups. He aimed his pistol and fired a warning shot, hitting the pavement just next to Rainer’s left foot. The man stumbled, but after fumbling for a few steps he was once again racing towards the main street. He was smart; he was running erratically, making himself a more difficult target.

“Rainer, you don’t wanna explain yourself? We can work this out,” Leandro called. He had no intention of working anything out, and he figured Rainer knew that, but it didn’t hurt to try. He fired again, this time grazing Rainer’s thigh, close enough to the femoral artery to--hopefully--scare the living shit out of him. The man yelped, but he continued running, now with a staggering limp and blood leaking through his pant leg. “Don’t make me do something crazy, buddy.” 

Leandro, the  _ Leones _ ’ sharpest sharpshooter, was not prepared for Rainer to reach the street, duck out sight, and speed past him on a motorbike.

“Ay,  _ mierda _ .” Leandro reached the entrance of the alley and squinted down the street. The sun was setting, lighting the horizon with a mixture of fiery pinks and the neon lights of the city. Rainer had vanished into the chaos of the busy streets. Leandro spun on his heels, raking his fingers through his thick curls. Across the street, a figure on a bright red motorbike pulled into a spot by the sidewalk. Leandro blinked, then ran into traffic. He weaved around cars easily--he was light on his feet; Alzina’s training had made sure of that--and stopped in front of the stranger as the man was adjusting his aviator goggles, pushing them back along with his inky, windblown bangs. 

“I need a ride,” Leandro said, breathless.

“What?” the man said, raising an eyebrow. Leandro’s gaze was drawn to a scar running from the man’s cheekbone to the underside of his jaw, a thick line of burnt flesh. Leandro had scars, but that one looked like it  _ hurt _ . Leandro then noticed a long knife slung across the man’s back in a sheath. Who the hell carried around a katana? 

“Uh--you saw that guy driving like a maniac a second ago, right?” 

The stranger crossed his arms. His baggy bomber jacket matched his bike, the same candy apple red. “Yeah?”

“He--” Leandro hesitated, then lowered his voice. He was desperate, not stupid. “Do you support the Galra?”

“Fuck no,” the stranger said.

Leandro straightened. That was always an encouraging response. “Well, that guy’s got information that’s gonna get a lot of people who also _don’t support the Galra_ executed, unless I stop him.”

The stranger glanced down the street, the direction Rainer had disappeared. His dark eyebrows furrowed, and he hesitated for a nearly imperceptible moment. 

“Get on,” the stranger said, pulling on his goggles. 

Leandro hopped onto the stranger’s bike, throwing one arm around his chest, keeping his other hand tight against the handle of his pistol. Before he could settle into the seat, the stranger was accelerating, and suddenly Leandro was careening down the street, twisting his fingers into  the man’s shirt for leverage. Leandro got the feeling the guy had experience driving at thoroughly fatal speeds; he dodged cars with a confidence Leandro hoped was warranted, briefly driving them onto the sidewalk to pull ahead of traffic. Leandro narrowed his eyes against the rushing wind, surveying the vehicles surrounding him for a bastard on a black bike. He caught a glimpse of copper hair several blocks ahead and leaned forward, shouting over the stranger’s shoulder.

“That’s him!”

“You sure you can take this guy?” The stranger called back.

“I don’t tell you how to drive, pretty boy!” 

Leandro heard the stranger scoff. He was already raising his pistol, aiming to kill--he was done playing nice with a traitor. The bike hurtled forward, pulling close enough for Leandro to take the shot without endangering civilians. He closed one eye, aligning the barrel with Rainer’s head. His finger brushed the trigger, but before he could fire, Rainer swerved into an alley, disappearing from view. 

“Fuck!” Leandro screamed. The stranger slammed the brakes, narrowly avoiding crashing into multiple cars, before adjusting his course to follow Rainer. 

“You got this, huh?” The man snapped.

“Don’t lose him,” Leandro said. He kept his finger on the trigger as the bike pulled into the alley. Immediately, a bullet buzzed past his ear. Leandro grimaced. “Get down,” he ordered. The stranger ducked his head, decelerating as Leandro returned fire. He realized that Rainer was trying to drive away and shoot back at them at the same time--like a moron. His shots were sporadic and almost insultingly easy to dodge. Leandro inhaled sharply, took a moment to focus his aim, and shot Rainer in the center of the back. The man collapsed, hitting the ground hard as his bike toppled next to him. Leandro climbed off the bike before it slowed completely, adrenaline shaking his legs like a shock of electricity. 

“Stay back,” Leandro said. The stranger eyed him dubiously, but said nothing. Leandro turned and walked slowly towards the crumpled man, retrieving his second pistol from his waist to hold both at the ready. Rainer gave an incoherent groan, squirming in a growing pool of blood. Leandro felt his jaw clench. “Hey, buddy.”

“Leandro--” Rainer gasped.

“Uh-uh. I gave you the chance to talk earlier. Instead, you ran away and tried to shoot me. Why’d you do that?”

“I--”

“I already know the answer. You betrayed us, and instead of facing the consequences, you tried to run and hide. There’s no room for cowards in  _ los Leones _ \--you know that, don’t you?”

“Leandro--”

“ _ Que no tenga miedo a la vida, ni a la muerte _ ,” Leandro said. As he recited the  _ Leones’  _ vow, he found himself pitying the man below him. He was only scared; they all were, sometimes, even if they promised not to be. He was only human.

Images of Luna and Vanessa, his precious sisters and valued  _ leonas _ , flickered in Leandro’s head. Rainer would have gotten them both killed. Them, along with every friend Leandro had, and, of course, Leandro himself. All for some cash. Leandro’s grip on his pistols tightened; his heartbeat hammered in his inner ears. If he were Alzina or Vanessa, if he were a better  _ león _ , Rainer would be dead already, shot summarily to get the mission over with. If Leandro were a better  _ león _ , he would have taken Alzina’s suspicions seriously, instead of putting the entire organization in danger by hoping they weren’t true. 

He wasn’t as good as they were at compartmentalizing, prioritizing the ends above the means, but Leandro was better at shooting. He shot Rainer between the eyes. The traitor instantly fell still, lying limp on the pavement in a crimson puddle. 

Leandro sighed, turning back to the stranger. The man was staring at him with an unreadable expression--probably horrified, Leandro assumed, but trying not to show it because he considered himself a tough kind of guy. Leandro knew the type.

“Got what he deserved,” Leandro said, nodding towards Rainer. “ _ Malinchista  _ dumbass. We trusted him, and then we find out he was working for them for months--that’s why his intel was so good. Man, you don’t even know how bad it would’ve been if he’d escaped. He had  _ everyone’s  _ names.”

“So you’re with the Resistance,” the stranger said.

Leandro forced a smile. “ _ Los Leones _ , baby. The Defenders of Tomorrow.”

At that, the man smirked. “Did you come up with that?”

“Nah, my friend did. That part’s not official--yet.”

“Hm,” the stranger said. He was looking past Leandro towards the body, and Leandro wished he wouldn’t. “Do you really think you should be telling me this?”

Leandro knew why he was asking. Being implicated in Resistance operations was as good as a death sentence. That’s why Rainer had to die, no matter how much Leandro had liked the guy before, no matter how much he hated that killing was part of his mission for peace. However, Leandro wouldn’t have gotten involved with the _ Leones _ if he was afraid of a little risk. 

“I knew I could trust you,” Leandro said, winking. “And anyway, you don’t know my real name. I’m just a handsome stranger, ridin’ your bike, killin’ a guy. Just your average Tuesday evening.”

The stranger was squinting at him, and continued to do so for a long, silent moment. Finally, he spoke, clearly thinking over his words as he said them. “No, I think I know you.” 

“Uh,” Leandro said. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, I remember you. Leandro Hernández. We went to school together before I flunked out—the Garrison, cargo class, right? I heard you took my spot after I left.”

Leandro blanched. No fucking way. Now that he was actually paying attention to the stranger, he recognized the mullet--it’d grown out, and somehow it looked good on him, but goddamn it, the man had a mullet. “ _Akira?_ Akira Kogane?”

The man smiled. Leandro could see it clearly then--how did he not recognize his rival? Not that Akira had ever taken their rivalry seriously. Leandro was still  _ slightly _ bitter about that. The man sitting casually on his obnoxiously red bike didn’t seem like the same moody Akira who’d spent half his time at school in detention. He looked good, Leandro realized. He’d traded his lankiness for a mature, muscled figure, and he’d grown into those huge, purple-black eyes; instead of oddly adorable, they struck Leandro as pretty. He quickly decided that that was a strange thing to think, particularly with the corpse of a man he’d killed lying ten feet away from them.

“Took me a minute to recognize you, too,” Akira said. “You’ve grown a little.” Leandro smiled sheepishly. He’d been embarrassingly small throughout most of his school years, but he’d eventually rocketed up, and now he figured he had a good six inches on Akira. That’d show him.

“Holy shit, man,” Leandro said. “I thought you, like, dropped off the face of the Earth. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing as cool as freedom fighting. Listen, we should probably get out of here before the drones show up. I’m not trying to get thrown in jail. Can I drive you home?”

“Uh,” Leandro said. “That’s probably pushing it. Could you take me to the Kaltenecker Center? That’s close enough.”

“Alright. You aren’t gonna--I don’t know--hide the body?”

Leandro took a final look at Rainer. That was a lot of blood. It had been a messy kill, not one of his finer jobs. Alzina would lose it if she saw. She was big on quick, painless-as-possible deaths--on a good day, Leandro was, too. “Do you know how many people are killed in this city every day?”

“No idea.” 

“Well, that was a rhetorical question, but the answer is ‘a lot’. They don’t have surveillance on alleys like this, either. I’m untraceable—unless you decide to rat me out, which—I hope you don’t.”

“That’s not really my style,” Akira said. “And besides, I was your driver. I’m kind of an accomplice.”

“You’re damn right you are, and I’d take you down with me,” Leandro said. Even as he said it, he wasn’t sure if he was joking. He climbed back onto the bike, wrapping both arms around Akira, with his pistols tucked into the holsters at his waist. For better or worse, he realized he was more aware of Akira this time, and he couldn’t help but notice the heat he could feel through his shirt, the firmness of his stomach--shit. The last thing Leandro needed now was for his middle school crush to return to him in all its crisis-inducing, infuriatingly distracting glory. He let the wind cool his cheeks, and managed to pull himself together by the time Akira parked the bike outside the Kaltenecker Center. 

“You sure I can’t just take you home?” Akira asked.

Leandro hesitated as he climbed off the bike. “Yeah. With this lifestyle, y’know, I have to be pretty careful. The others would be all over me if they found out. And anyway, you’ve done a lot for me already. I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way to—“

“Ex-classmates get free rides,” Akira said.

“Yeah?”

“The ones I like, anyway. I always thought you were pretty cool.”

“Yeah?” Leandro repeated, his voice leaving his throat as more of a squeak.

“Sure. I was a better pilot, but at least you could actually work with people. I’m kinda jealous of people who’re good at that,” Akira said, shrugging.

“Thanks,” Leandro said, floundering for something more intelligent to say. How did Akira even remember that much about him? He’d never gotten the impression that the guy cared about him one way or the other, much less admired him. Man, this was a weird day. “None of that really matters anymore, though. I mean, neither of us ended up being pilots.” Akira flunked out after his brother went missing; Leandro dropped out to join the Resistance. A hell of a lot of education gone to waste.

“Fair enough,” Akira said. 

“Also, plenty of people would be really freaked out by this whole situation. You’re abnormally fine with it. That’s cool--like, by definition.”

Akira smiled. “You’ll have to do better if you want to surprise me.” He tilted his head; a flicker of recognition crossed his face. “Hey, I bet you didn’t know I got Hiroshi back.”

Leandro’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t.” 

“Absolutely did. He’s got a Galra-tech arm, and they messed him up pretty bad--you know, in the head. But he’s alive,” Akira said. Leandro remembered the day Hiroshi and his crew went missing vividly. He’d been heartbroken. He wasn’t too proud to admit he’d had a celebrity crush on Hiroshi--not as strong as his crush on Akira, but present nonetheless. Leandro and his siblings had idolized the pilot for several reasons each, and Leandro often thought, overly dramatic or not, that Hiroshi’s disappearance had signaled the beginning of humanity’s downfall. 

“Akira, I know I said I didn’t want you driving me around anymore, but--”

“You want to meet him?”

“I  _ really  _ want to meet him,” Leandro exclaimed. That would make his first childhood dream that’d actually come true--not that he was necessarily counting. 

“He’d probably like to meet a fan,” Akira said. “He doesn’t get out much these days. I can bring you over now, if you’ve got time.” The man paused. His eyes lit as he stared at Leandro, leaning forward over the handlebars. “I have one condition, though.”

Leandro raised his eyebrows, waiting. 

“I want in on the Resistance.” 

~~~

Akira lived in a corner of town Leandro rarely visited, in an apartment building that scaled the sky. Even among the  _ Leones _ , this neighborhood had a reputation; it was common knowledge that you didn’t drive through it at night, and you didn’t start shit in the day. You stayed quiet. The street was nearly empty, probably an effect of the setting sun, and Leandro hovered near Akira as the man parked his bike. 

“For some reason, I always thought you were rich,” Leandro said. 

Akira looked up from locking his bike, his bangs spilling down his face. “Me? Why?”

“I dunno. You had that rich-kid confidence, like nobody else mattered.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it confidence,” Akira said, returning to his bike. He was onto his second lock. Leandro figured a bike that conspicuous would make a tempting target, if he was looking to steal one. On principle, he only stole from the Galra, and even then, he rarely wanted anything badly enough to bother. “I was just pissed off all the time. Never had much money, though. My dad was a firefighter, and they never paid Hiroshi what he deserved.”

“Their best pilot?” 

“Yeah. By the time he left for Kerberos, they were done with him. They tried to get him to retire instead of going—which might have been the better choice, but it wasn’t their call.” Akira stood, beckoning Leandro into the apartment building. It was dimly lit, with fluorescent lighting washing over them both, and the hallway smelled like dust. Akira jabbed at the elevator button, giving several tries before the button registered the pressure. They crowded into the elevator; the interior was small enough make Leandro feel mildly claustrophobic. He felt too close to Akira, at least. Riding the man’s bike out of necessity was one thing; standing this close to him voluntarily was entirely different. 

“He had that muscle disorder,” Leandro said, staring resolutely at the elevator doors as they started to ascend. He remembered briefly investigating Hiroshi’s condition, before getting too depressed to continue and turning to encyclopedia entries on Pluto instead. He’d always found it inspiring, how the man was determined to do what he loved until he physically couldn’t. Leandro had never known that kind of motivation--until he became a _león_.

“Myotonic dystrophy. Don’t bring it up,” Akira said, turning to Leandro. Leandro met his eyes. Akira, who’d been nothing but remarkably nonchalant up to this point, had gone stony-faced, staring at Leandro with an intensity that made him wish he could take a step back. “It’s gone now.”

“Gone,” Leandro repeated. Akira nodded sharply. Alright, then. “Anything else I shouldn’t mention?”

“I’d say to just use your common sense, but you did ask a complete stranger--as far as you knew--to help you kill a man.” 

“And y’know, that’d be a fair point, except that you agreed.”

“ Touché ,” Akira said, giving a faint smile. “You probably shouldn’t bring that up, either.”

“What am I supposed to say? We met in the elevator? I’m the plumber?”

“This isn’t a porno,” Akira said. Leandro nearly choked. “As far as they need to know, you’re an old friend from school and we happened to run into each other. I don’t need Hiroshi and Dante freaking out. Hiroshi especially.”

“Are you not gonna tell them you’re trying to join--”

“No,” Akira interrupted. “They’d put me under house arrest.” The elevator jolted as it stopped on--Leandro checked--the thirty-eighth floor. The hallway was just as dull and cramped as the rest of the building. Leandro couldn’t imagine living somewhere so boring. He and his sisters had each helped decorate the apartment they shared, and they’d made it look like a home even with severe restrictions on what they could own--no electronics, no pictures of family, no journals, no unnecessarily valuable objects or extraneous weapons. Leandro wondered suddenly how Akira would follow those regulations. Would he be willing to move away from his family to honor the rules? Somehow, Leandro doubted it. 

Akira had barely knocked on the door twice when it swung open, and Leandro found a short teenage girl in an oversized sweater staring at him, words half-formed on her lips. Leandro didn’t remember Akira ever mentioning a sister, but there was no other explanation for her uncanny resemblance to the man. She shared his thick black hair, angular face, and large, dark eyes. Even her expression--suspicious, which Leandro could understand--seemed like a mirror of Akira’s when Leandro had first spoken to him earlier that evening.

“You’ve got a lot of guns,” she said.

Akira sighed. “Aoi, this is--”

“Leo,” Leandro said, thrusting his hand out towards her. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and stared at his hand. After a moment of silence, she gripped his palm and gave it a weak shake. “I’m Leo, and you’re right; two guns is probably overkill. Relatively speaking, though, I don’t think it’s a  _ lot _ .”

“I think one gun would be a lot, too.” 

“Aoi, he’s a friend of mine,” Akira said, his voice soft. “Lay off.” 

The girl stared at him quizzically, but she pushed open the door, making room for them to enter the apartment. Leandro followed Akira, avoiding eye contact with Aoi as he passed her.

Maybe this was a mistake. 

Directly across from the doorway, on the other side of a small, carpeted living room, a man sat at a kitchen table, examining an open textbook through thick glasses. Next to him was an empty seat, clearly where Aoi had been seated, with loose papers splayed on the table in front of it. Behind the seated man, another man stood with his back to them, tending to the stovetop with his one arm. His cropped black hair was streaked with white, and he had an enormous frame, broad-shouldered and tall. With a jolt of shock, Leandro realized that he was watching the one and only Hiroshi Kogane cook dinner; at the same moment, Akira pulled Leandro towards the wall by the elbow. Aoi walked past them into the kitchen, joining the man at the table but sparing them a dubious look.

“Don’t take what Aoi says too personally, alright?” Akira said under his breath. Leandro forced himself to focus on the man across from him. Akira still looked uncomfortably serious. Leandro bit back a sarcastic comment; he dealt with far worse interactions on a daily basis. But Akira was trying to be nice--probably.

“I wasn’t. I’m fine. Not everyone’s gonna trust me; I get that. You’re an exception to the rule.”

“Yeah, well--she has her reasons. Me and her, we’ve been through a lot.”

“She’s your sister?”

“Yeah, five years younger.”

“I don’t think you ever talked about her,” Leandro said. 

“The kids at the Garrison knew way too much about my family already. I didn’t want to bring her into it,” Akira said. Leandro stared. He wouldn’t have considered Garrison-era Akira capable of being that thoughtful. He was realizing that he’d never known much about Akira--the real Akira, not the personality Leandro had projected onto him out of misplaced jealousy and desperation. Now, after years without so much as hearing a mention of his name, Leandro knew nearly nothing at all. 

“Akira, are you going to introduce us?” A man’s voice interrupted Leandro’s thoughts. Leandro looked past Akira into the kitchen, where both men had turned their attentions to him. The seated man watched them evenly, his expression neutral, while Hiroshi was smiling, as friendly-faced in person as in any of the dozens of pictures Leandro had seen of him. The one difference was the faded scar stretching across the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones. That had to be new. Leandro swallowed heavily and walked towards the kitchen.

“Sorry--I’m Leo,” Leandro said, feeling his cheeks flushing. “It’s, um--it’s an honor to meet you, sir.” 

Hiroshi raised his eyebrows, leaning against the stovetop. “There’s no need to be so formal. I don’t get called ‘sir’ much anymore. I have to say it doesn’t feel right.”

Leandro had already fucked up. Goddammit. “Sorry--Mr. Kogane?” All four people in the kitchen laughed at that. Leandro wanted to sink through the floorboards. Akira had betrayed him--he could’ve warned him that Hiroshi had a bizarre aversion to etiquette. It wasn’t Leandro’s fault his  mamá had raised him right. 

“Hiroshi is fine,” the man said. He nodded towards the seated man. “This is my husband, Dante. You’ve clearly met my little brother.”

“Uh--yeah, we knew each other back in the day. The Garrison days,” he clarified. 

At that, Dante straightened in his chair. “You were a student? Are you a pilot?”

Leandro faltered. “No, I’m not. Piloting didn’t... work out.”

“He applied at Lola Maria’s today,” Akira said. Leandro glanced over in surprise. After the man had laughed in his face, he wasn’t expecting him to then save his ass. 

“Then you’re soon-to-be coworkers?” Dante asked.

“Can’t wait,” Akira said. Leandro almost laughed.

“Leo,” Hiroshi said. “Have you ever had Japanese home-cooking?”

Leandro registered the boiling pot on the stovetop properly, then the chopped vegetables on cutting boards spread along the counter-space in the kitchen. Oh, God, he was inviting himself to dinner, like an asshole. “No, sir--Hiroshi.”

“Well, this should be a memorable evening. I’ve been told I’m an excellent cook,” Hiroshi said, grinning at Leandro. 

“I don’t know who told you that,” Dante said, grimacing. Hiroshi laughed and bent to kiss the top of his husband’s head. Leandro found himself smiling. He loved romance--that didn’t seem to help him find his own, but he always appreciated seeing a happy couple. He liked to be reminded that even in times like these, what seemed like humanity’s last stance, life could be beautiful, at least for a moment. 

“Nah, he’s pretty good,” Akira said. He turned to Leandro, folding his arms across his chest. “You want to stay?”

Leandro glanced to Aoi, who immediately ducked her head, looking pointedly down at the table. He turned back to Akira, uneasy. The last thing he wanted was to make Aoi uncomfortable, but could he really turn down an evening with two of the only people he’d ever idolized?

“He’s staying,” Hiroshi announced, turning back to the stove. “I’m glad you and Akira happened to find each other, Leandro. I think it’s good to reconnect with people from the past when you can.”

“I think so, too,” Leandro said, watching Aoi. She raised her chin and eyed him over, now expressionless. 

“You may not be a pilot anymore, but if you have any questions about the field, I’d be happy to tell you what I can,” Hiroshi said. “It’s good information to have, especially with how these last few years have gone. You never know what could be relevant tomorrow, or in a year.” 

Leandro clasped his hands, excitement bubbling in his chest. “I’d be honored.”

~~~

“So, did I bribe my way in?” Akira asked. He leaned against the closed door to his apartment, with a smug smile that Leandro recognized from years ago. It was still a  _ bit  _ infuriating, although Leandro was hoping he’d get over that soon. 

“You know it doesn’t work like that, right?” he said. “Like, you can’t just say ‘I want in on the Resistance’ and then show up at the next Galra-ass-kicking meeting.”

“It seems like you don’t know how it works, either,” Akira said.

“Of course I know how it works! I joined them!”

Akira stared at him, unconvinced.

“Okay, my older sister got me in,” Leandro conceded. “That still counts.”

“Kinda.”

“Look, I’ll put in a good word for you. We’re always looking for more volunteers, so chances are high they’ll want to meet you.”

“I’m guessing you don’t have a cell phone,” Akira said.

“Nah, I’m off the grid. How about this: I’ll meet you at the corner of South and Branko in exactly a week. They’ll have made the decision by then, and I’ll pass it along.”

Akira tapped his cheek thoughtfully. He was touching his scar; Leandro wondered if he noticed. “If I didn’t know better, I might think that was a trap.”

“It never hurts to bring along a weapon.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’ve got a katana.”

Leandro nodded. “I noticed. That checks out.” 

“What?”

Leandro shrugged. “It just makes sense to me that you’d carry a katana; that’s it. It fits the whole bad boy image you’re going for, and you know what? I like it. I think it’s cool.” 

Akira appeared utterly confused. “You think my knife is cool?”

“Yeah, and she thinks my tractor’s sexy.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Jesus, you’re impossible.” Leandro sighed. “I’ll see you next week, Red. Don’t be late.” He gave Akira a salute and headed down the hallway before they could break into an argument. Now  _ that  _ would bring him back to the old days. Before he stepped into the elevator, he took a last look back towards Akira. The man was shaking his head, opening the door to his apartment. And, Leandro noticed with satisfaction, he was definitely smiling. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is everyone else. (Almost.)

Leandro caught a bus back to his apartment after standing at a bus stop for twenty minutes, all too aware of the wide berth he was being given. He’d stood the entire time, knowing that no one would be willing to share the bench with him and not wanting to keep it for himself. He kept his arms crossed, a safe distance from his pistols, and avoided eye contact. This was more along the lines of the treatment he was used to. Ever since the Galra arrived, people didn’t leave their homes as often, much less chat with strangers. Everyone and everything was suspicious; every chance encounter could prove fatal. Leandro couldn’t find fault with that mindset; he agreed with it, more or less. And anyway, this was Arizona. Heat drove people crazy, and Arizona had little else to offer. It was no wonder that the remaining civilians were, in general, unpleasant to be around.

Leandro was just grateful that the world hadn’t descended into anarchy when aliens first touched down. That would have complicated things.

He climbed the concrete steps to his apartment on the second level and took care to open the door slowly after unlocking it, stifling the creak. His sisters were usually asleep by this hour, since training started first thing in the morning. Instead of the dark, quiet living room he expected to find waiting for him, he stepped inside and found Luna and Vanessa seated on the sofa, clearly deep in conversation. Luna was facing him, and noticed him first; she leapt to her feet, her eyes wide, curls flying.

“What are you doing here?” she cried.

“I live here, Lunita,” Leandro said, bemused. He started to pull off his olive trench coat. “Didn’t you know?”

Vanessa turned to face him, her eyebrows furrowed. “Alzina thinks you’re dead in a ditch.”

“ _What?_ ” Leandro was struck still. “Why the hell would she--”

“She says you never messaged her after you went after Rainer, and she couldn’t contact you because--”

“Because my comm’s set to block signals, so the mission wouldn’t be compromised,” Leandro said, groaning. He threw his coat onto the sofa beside Vanessa in a heap. “For all she knows, that son of a bitch sniped me--Jesus, just saying that makes me want to rinse with bleach. How upset was she?”

“Somewhere between mildly annoyed and ‘personally going to kill you’,” Vanessa said

“That’s a big range, Vane!”

“You shouldn’t be talking to me, anyway. Call her. She was worried.”

“I told them both you’d never let that guy touch you,” Luna said. Leandro turned towards his twin sister, throwing his arms open.

“You believe in me,” he exclaimed. “Thank God someone does!”

“Tone it down, Leo,” Vanessa said. Leandro lowered his arms. “I don’t think you can charm your way out of this one. You should apologize to her--and to us. We’ve been waiting up for you.” Leandro winced. He’d been too busy flirting with Akira to check in with Alzina or come home on time. That had to say something about him, but he wasn’t sure exactly what--‘bad teammate’ and ‘bad brother’ at the very least.

“I don’t know how I forgot. _Perdóname_.”

“Where were you, anyway?” Luna asked.

“Uh--you wouldn’t believe me,” Leandro said, starting to fix the controls on his comm.

“Try me,” Vanessa said, raising an eyebrow.

Leandro shrugged. “Akira Kogane drove me around on his motorbike, and then I met Hiroshi back at his apartment and he made me miso soup.”

“So you were doing crack cocaine,” Vanessa said.

“Vane!” Leandro protested.

“I can only suspend disbelief to a certain level, Leo. Hiroshi Kogane is dead, so either you’re on drugs or you see dead people. I don’t know which option poor, sweet Catholic Mamá would cry over more.”

Leandro pursed his lips. Vanessa would realize he’d told the truth eventually, hopefully after Akira made a dramatic entrance at the _Leones_ ’ base. There was no point in trying to convince her now. She was too stubborn to argue with; he’d learned that by age six. “Fine. You want the truth; here it is: I met a guy and lost track of time. Do you believe that?”

“Yes, actually,” Vanessa said. “Was the mission at least successful?”

“Give me some credit. I heard Rainer selling information to the Galra, then I shot him down. Alzina should’ve gotten rid of the Galra agent, too. It went mostly according to plan.”

“Mostly?” Luna laughed.

As Leandro rolled his eyes, his comm blinked, producing sharp, high-pitched tones in quick succession. Someone was calling him, and he could guess who it was. He accepted the call, already anticipating a lecture from Alzina. He loved her, but she was not one to let him or anyone else off easy.

“Leandro?” Alzina asked. The connection was shakier now. She was probably at the base, a ways across town. “Is that you?”

“It’s me. Listen, Alzina--”

“Do you know how worried I’ve been?” Alzina snapped. “We agreed that you would check in after the mission was complete, and instead you gave me nothing but radio silence. I was ready to declare you missing in action!”

“I know,” Leandro said. “I’m sorry. Time got away from me. Rainer’s dead, but, uh--something happened that you should know about.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his sisters watching him, their eyebrows raised.

Alzina was momentarily quiet. “Bad news?” she asked.

“No, it could be really good, actually. I’d rather tell you in person, though. We need to talk about a few things.”

“Right. Come in early tomorrow morning, and we’ll chat. I’d like to discuss tonight, as well. This was an unacceptable mistake.”

Leandro’s face burned. Alzina’s disappointment was painful. “It won’t happen again.”

“I know. Anyway, I’m interested to hear what you have to tell me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Leandro.”

“Yeah. Bye, Alzina. Sorry again,” Leandro said as the call dropped.

“You’re in trouble,” Luna said. Leandro turned towards her, exasperated, but Vanessa spoke before he could answer his twin.

“What are you going to tell her?” Vanessa asked. “If it’s so important, shouldn’t we be the first to know?”

Leandro stopped himself from rolling his eyes again. “The guy I met is interested in joining. He could be a good ally.”

“Sure,” Luna said. “That does sound _very_ important.”

“It is,” Leandro said. “Now, Lunita, Vane: this has been a ridiculously long day, and I’m gonna go get yelled at by Alzina first thing tomorrow morning. You guys got any other questions about how I spend my time, before I go to bed?”

“Is this guy cute?” Luna asked.

“Very. Is that all?”

“Just go to sleep, Leo,” Vanessa said. The girl stood up from the couch, and embraced Leandro in a tight hug before quickly pulling away. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Leandro smiled. “You, too.”

“ _Qué ridículo._ I didn’t have a mission today.”

“Nah, I mean in general. I’m lucky to have you two. I don’t say that a lot, but I probably should.”

“Are you drunk?” Luna asked.

“I take it back,” Leandro said. Luna grinned, but she came over to give him a hug, too, before shoving him towards his room, insisting that he sleep well before facing Alzina’s wrath the next morning. His exhaustion settled over him as he entered his bedroom, and he collapsed onto his mattress, barely mustering the energy to pull off his boots. He lay in bed for what felt like hours, unable to think of anything but his mission. Once it was over, he was supposed to stop thinking about it--that was one of Alzina’s most frequently repeated rules--but he couldn’t chase away the image of Rainer’s eyes just before Leandro had shot him. Leandro had seen the fear there, and known that the man was still hoping until the end that somehow, he could change Leandro’s mind, could convince him to spare his life even after all he’d done. Leandro hated to see desperation. It was unbecoming of a _león_ , and it made his job much harder than it had to be.

~~~

Leandro arrived at the base well before the sun had risen. His watch informed him that it was nearly six a.m. as he headed to the back of a small music shop and walked in through the employees’ entrance. Bells on the door handle clanged, marking his arrival, and a tall, young alien woman with yellow locks of hair falling past her shoulders was eyeing him from behind a counter. She was tuning an unfamiliar instrument vaguely resembling a guitar. An assortment of stringed instruments hung on the walls, grouped by size and style. Acoustic guitars and ukuleles decorated the left corner, orchestral instruments occupied the right half, and Leandro passed brightly colored electric guitars along the back wall as he entered the shop.

“Hey, Leandro,” the woman said. “Coming in early today?”

“Alzina’s giving me a talking-to.”

“Aw,” she said. “Sounds serious. I guess you don’t have time to try out this oud? It’s got a beautiful sound--or it will once it’s tuned. It got a little out of sync in transit from Armenia.”

“You know, I’d love to, but I probably wouldn’t be any good anyway.”

“But you’re so talented at guitar! I think you’d be a natural.”

“Gosh, Nova, it kind of sounds like you’re trying to flatter me,” Leandro said.

“I need someone to buy this thing. I don’t know why a music shop has to be our cover. Doesn’t Alzina know this stuff is expensive?”

“I’ll check it out later, promise. Can I go inside?”

Nova shrugged, turning her attention back to the instrument against her chest. Leandro walked past her into the storage room, where the elevator that led to the base was hidden among haphazardly stacked boxes of sheet music and spare strings. As he maneuvered his way around groups of instrument stands, Leandro remembered his first several times coming into the shop. Nova had been working there as long as Leandro had been a _león_ , and for the first year or so she’d pretended she didn’t recognize him and wouldn’t wave him through until he recited the _Leones_ ’ vow, the standard requirement for entry. She didn’t bother anymore. He’d earned her trust, but more than that, he was fairly sure that he’d spent enough time messing around on a guitar with her that she’d grown to like him as a person.

Leandro entered his passcode into a pad on the wall and stepped inside the elevator, selecting the button for the bottom floor of the warehouse. They’d been lucky enough to buy the entire warehouse off from a branch of a manufacturing company that went out of business after its factories were destroyed in Galra attacks. There were definite perks of having leaders who’d been Altean elites and brought over a fortune in alien technology.

The elevator stopped at floor zero, and Leandro started to make his way down the hall towards Alzina’s makeshift living space before stopping himself. He’d never arrived this early, but he had to assume Alzina would be awake, and she wasn’t the type to stay in her room when she could be somewhere else. She was constantly busy, managing operations and training new recruits, or else taking minimal time off to spend with Rowan. Leandro turned around and headed towards the training room. As he walked towards it, the doors slid open. He heard Alzina before he saw her; she was sparring with one of the droids they’d stolen from the Galra and hacked to be non-lethal, and she noticed him immediately as he entered the room.

“Deactivate,” she commanded, and the droid collapsed in front of her. Alzina threw the staff she’d been using to the floor and stepped over the droid as she walked towards Leandro. Her hair was pulled back into a white, curly poof, and she wore a training outfit instead of her usual Altean clothing. When she reached Leandro, she clapped her hands onto his shoulders. Leandro flinched. “It’s good to see you. I’ve been thinking this morning, and I decided I was a bit harsh last night. Would you agree?”

“Uh, I don’t think so. You were right; I fucked up.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, removing her hands. “But it occurred to me that I didn’t give you the opportunity to explain your version of events. As a leader, that was hardly fair of me.”

Leandro stared at her. This was not the wrath he’d been expecting. “Like I said, something happened,” he said. He paused, giving her the chance to change tactics from benevolence to cold fury. She blinked at him, her pale blue eyes wide, her expression calm. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but back at the Garrison, there was this guy, Akira, who was sort of my rival.”

“The boy you liked. Yes, I have heard about him from Henare.”

“Oh,” Leandro said, feeling himself flushing. He’d have to talk to Henare about maybe not mortifying him by telling the Princess about his middle school insanity. “Well, his older brother was Hiroshi Kogane, the pilot of the Kerberos mission.”

“That crew that was captured by the Galra,” Alzina said.

“That’s the one. We assumed the crew were all killed after the Galra squeezed some information out of them, but I ran into Akira last night during the mission, and I ended up meeting Hiroshi face-to-face. He’s alive. He got home somehow--and he has a new arm. Akira told me it’s Galra tech. It’s possible he could have insider information on the Galra.”

Alzina’s eyes had grown progressively wider as Leandro spoke. She nodded vigorously. “That’s wonderful news! Has he offered his services?”

“No,” Leandro said quickly. “No, I didn’t even tell him about us. I wasn’t sure he’d be interested. Akira knows, though. He actually wants to join.”

“Well, I trust your judgment, Leandro. Is that a good idea?”

“I don’t know him that well,” Leandro said. He hesitated. It felt wrong to treat Akira like any other potential member, but he really _didn’t_ know him. “I think we should go through the same routine as always. Background check, basic stuff, you know. It seems like he’s got his heart in the right place, but we can’t be too careful, not after Rainer.”

“We’ll look into him, then. Also, I’m sure Luna or Vanessa filled you in, but I did take care of the Galra agent. By the time I reached him, he was nearly dead already, so unfortunately there was no chance for interrogation. I’m assuming your mission went smoothly enough, so did you have anything else to tell me?”

“Nah, that sums it up.”

“Right, then,” Alzina said. “Taking what you’ve told me into consideration, I’m still disappointed. You’re one of our best, Leandro. Neglecting your responsibilities isn’t like you.”

“I’m sorry,” Leandro said, for what felt like the hundredth time. “It was kind of a stressful mission.”

“I’ve been through this before, and I can tell you from personal experience that one mistake is all it takes to doom a planet. Altea was among the most advanced worlds in the universe, but that amounted to nothing when the Galra caught us unprepared. Being ‘one of the best’ didn’t save the Altean army. It was completely destroyed, and the Resistance as well. You need to keep sharp, no matter how stressful a mission might be, or I’ll have to find a teammate that will.”

Leandro ducked his head. “I’ll do better.”

“And don’t scare me like that,” Alzina huffed. “Finding a new teammate would be one issue, but replacing a friend is entirely different.”

Leandro broke into a smile. “Aw. Thanks, Princess.”

“Don’t thank me. Be more vigilant in the future, and we won’t have a problem,” Alzina said. She maintained her composure for a moment before her harsh expression melted and she pulled Leandro into a hug, squeezing him tightly. “I know I’m being hard on you,” she said, speaking close to his ear. “I hope you know that it’s only because I want you to survive. We’re fighting a war. You need to remember that.”

“I’m trying,” Leandro said.

“I know.” Alzina pulled away and checked her comm. “Anyway, we have forty minutes before the daily briefing. Would you like to train with me?”

“I don’t want to slow you down. Hand-to-hand isn’t really my thing.”

“Nonsense,” Alzina said. “That’s what training is for. It doesn’t have to be your ‘thing’, but you should be proficient at close-range fighting. That’s why Petra spent so long reprogramming these droids for us. We don’t want her efforts to go to waste.”

“Right, but--”

“Come on, then. You can put away the pistols. You won’t be needing them.”

Leandro sighed. “Sometimes I think you just want an excuse to kick my ass.”

“We’ll be fighting the droids, not each other.”

“And yet you always end up kicking my ass anyway.”

“It’s the magic of training!” Alzina said, retrieving her staff from the floor. She tossed it roughly to Leandro. “Exactly whose ass will inevitably be kicked is a mystery until it happens. The universe is wondrous.”

“And now you’re just messing with me.”

“That’s insubordination,” Alzina said, grinning. “Drop and give me twenty.”

“How do you even know what that means?” Leandro exclaimed.

“Petra has been helping me learn cultural references. I’m quite enjoying how many of them involve cats. Now, no more procrastinating. Activate level three!”

“Alzina,” Leandro whined. The droid was already clambering to its clunky, metallic feet. Resigning himself to his fate, Leandro fixed his stance, holding the staff at the ready. He aimed a last glare at Alzina before the droid turned towards him, and he leaped forward to whack it back.

~~~

Leandro was stretching on the floor of the meeting room when Petra and Henare arrived. Henare held out an iced coffee and shook it with a grin, and Leandro leapt up to grab it, immediately chugging a mouthful. The cold bit into his stomach, sending a jolt of energy through him. After training with Alzina for half an hour, he was grateful for the boost. She’d gone easy on him, all things considered, but she was still a highly trained Altean princess and he’d ended up flung across the room by a droid while she watched from the sidelines, shouting something about training montages and catlike reflexes, multiple times.

“How are my favorite roommates?” Leandro asked between sips of watered-down espresso.

Petra gave Henare a pointed stare. “Henare kept me up all night snoring, so this arrangement might be very short-lived.” She did look exhausted, Leandro noticed. Her amber eyes had heavy bags underneath, her pale brown hair was tied back into a rough braid, and her striped sweater was spotted with paint stains, which Leandro doubted she’d noticed. The huge, round frames of her glasses were crooked on her face.

“Look, dude,” Henare said. Unlike Petra, he appeared well-rested; even the yellow ribbon holding back his hair was perfectly knotted. He always looked good, though, in Leandro’s biased opinion. Leandro was known to call him a ‘hulking, beautiful man’, which Henare accepted. “Unless you want to pay for my septum surgery, you’re gonna have to deal.”

“If I wasn’t flat out broke, I’d consider it,” Petra said. “But this is still way better than living with my mom, so deal with it I shall.”

Leandro frowned. “Don’t you think she’ll get lonely? I mean, with your dad and your brother gone, isn’t that kinda harsh?”

“I told her I wanted to move out once I turned eighteen. We talked it out, and she’s fine with it. We both agreed that with… how she is, it’d be more appropriate for me to have my own place. She’s always gonna want to treat me like a kid, but that’s not who I am anymore. She’ll get used to it.”

“And I support you all the way,” Henare said.

“You just want someone paying half the rent,” Petra said, nudging him fondly. She was less than half his size, and nearly bounced off his side.

“That, too,” Henare admitted. “The city’s expensive.”

“And anyway, it’s safer for her this way. Isn’t that you why you moved in with your sisters, Leandro?”

“Yeah, it is,” Leandro said. He still didn’t understand Petra’s point of view. If he had the opportunity to live with his parents--he didn’t; his niece and nephew lived at home, and he’d never put them at risk--he’d take it without a second thought. Petra didn’t talk about her brother and father much, but Leandro had to assume that their disappearance had put a wedge between her and her mother. How did a family even move on from something like that? As he considered that, a thought occurred to him, and he stammered out, “Wait, Petra--holy shit, wait.”

“Yeah?” Petra said, raising her eyebrows. She and Henare exchanged a curious look.

“Your brother and your dad--” Leandro broke off. Petra had never offered any information on her family, only explained that those two weren’t in the picture. Now that Leandro thought about it, she did look an awful lot like the guys he’d seen in the pictures, always next to Hiroshi. Leandro had never paid much attention to them. He’d figured they were long dead like everyone else, and hadn’t seen any point in dwelling on it. “They’re Matteo and Samuele Ferro, from the Kerberos mission, aren’t they?”

Petra’s amused expression disappeared. “I don’t think I told you that.”

“You didn’t, but--oh, my God. I can’t believe I didn’t realize. Listen, Petra, you’re not gonna believe me, but hear me out--I met Hiroshi Kogane in person last night. He’s alive; he lives in the city.”

Henare blinked. Petra crossed her arms, her lips pursed. “Are you fucking with me?”

“No! I wouldn’t joke around about that,” Leandro said. He could’ve kicked himself. He’d been in the same room as Hiroshi and he hadn’t thought to ask about the crew. Even if they hadn’t been Petra’s family, they would’ve been someone’s. Someone would still be missing them, and wanting answers no one else had. “I don’t know how or why or anything like that, but he’s here. I do know that.”

“You weren’t gonna mention that you met a living legend?” Henare asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “An _undead_ legend, really.”

“You got here thirty seconds ago! And I just realized all of this. Petra’s been so quiet about her family because they were abducted by the Galra.”

“Just tell the whole base, why don’t you?” Petra snapped.

“So your last name’s Ferro?” Henare asked, turning to Petra. “You said it was Holt.”

“I’m trying to keep a low profile,” Petra hissed, flushing angrily.

“If Hiroshi’s alive, they could be, too,” Leandro said. “I don’t wanna get your hopes up, but it’s possible, right?”

Petra stared at the floor, hugging herself tightly. Leandro had never seen the girl look so uncertain. She sniffed quietly, and when she looked up at Leandro, her eyes were glassy.

“I want to talk to this guy,” she said.

“You’ll get to,” Leandro promised. “But not for a few days at least. Akira’s not gonna let us--”

“Akira?” Henare interrupted. “Like _the_ Akira?”

“Yes, _the_ Akira,” Leandro said, exasperated. As incredible of a coincidence as it had been to meet the guy again, explaining it was getting old. “He helped me shoot down Rainer. Real great guy. That’s not my point, here.”

“Who’s Akira?” Petra asked.

“A guy who’s not gonna let us question his brother that easily. I also have no way of contacting him, and I’m not gonna see him for a week, so we’re gonna have to wait it out.”

“Do you know where Hiroshi lives? You said he lives in the city,” Petra said.

“No way. You’re not gonna show up at Hiroshi’s apartment and interrogate him. As your friend and a sane person, I cannot let you do that.”

“Fine. Where does he work?”

“I don’t think he does,” Leandro said. Akira had told him that Hiroshi ‘didn’t get out much’, and having an arm made of alien technology probably wouldn’t have helped Hiroshi in the job market.

“Akira, then? Assuming he’s an adult, he must some kind of soul-crushingly boring job.”

“Bothering someone at work is a dick move, Petra.”

“I’m not going to bother him,” Petra insisted. “I’ll just check him out. Someone will have to do that anyway; why not me?”

She had a point. The _Leones_ had to look into Akira, and Petra was the go-to person for background checks. Leandro sighed. “He mentioned some place called Lola Maria’s,” he said. Instantly, Petra retrieved her tablet from the satchel over her shoulder and began typing furiously.

“That sounds like a restaurant,” Henare said.

“It is a restaurant,” Petra said, scanning her screen. “Three-ninety-two Meridian Avenue; opens in four hours. Looks like a little Filipino place. Let’s see if I can find his shifts.”

“God, Petra, don’t stalk him.”

“That’s what we do!” she exclaimed. “We stalk people. On a daily basis. I’m just gonna go have a look at him and make sure he’s not a creep or a fascist, get some flan or something, and report back. All essential components of the screening process.”

“Right,” Henare said. “You’re _not_ gonna interrogate the one guy you can track down who might know whether your missing family members are alive.”

“Not immediately,” Petra said.

“At least tip him,” Leandro said, defeated.

“Twenty percent minimum, Leo. I wasn’t raised in a barn.”

“ _Leones!_ ” Alzina’s voice rang throughout the meeting room. Leandro turned to find her on the raised wooden platform that served as a stage during their briefings. The room had filled with members of the city’s branch of the organization, and Leandro glanced around for familiar faces as he found a seat. He waved to Shana, then winked, jutting his chin towards Henare while the man’s back was turned. Shana blushed--which Leandro hadn’t realized that was capable for a rock. He nodded to Floreci, and waved Rowan over to the seat next to him. He hadn’t seen the blonde woman arrive. She sat and leaned in, lowering her voice as she spoke.

“Alzina told me you did well last night,” the woman said.

“Really? She said that?”

“You completed your mission, found a likely ally with inside information on the enemy, and brought in a recruit, all in one evening. I think that’s deserving of praise. Alzina thinks so, too. Public praise, actually, in her case. And it’s important to celebrate victories like this, to keep up morale.”

“What?” Leandro asked, but Rowan put a finger to her lips and turned towards Alzina. Leandro sat straight in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable. He didn’t think he liked where this was going.

“Thank you for joining me so early in the morning,” Alzina was saying, waving a hand above the crowd. “Your loyalty is invaluable to our cause. As some of you may know, loyalty has been a sensitive issue lately, within our group. As your leader, it pains me to admit that, but I assure you all that any immediate danger to us has been eliminated. How many of you knew the _león_ Rainer personally? He was with us for several months. Please, raise your hands.” Alzina paused, surveying the group. Leandro looked around him, taking in the dozens of raised hands, before raising his own.

“Right,” Alzina said. “He was well-known, a skilled man, and his service was undoubtedly helpful. However, several days ago I began to suspect that his loyalty did not lie with us at all, but with the Galra.” At that, the room erupted with outraged shouts. Leandro slid down into his seat, feeling his face heating. She was going to single him out, wasn’t she? “I assigned one of our most skilled agents to discover the truth of the matter, and unfortunately, my suspicions were confirmed correct. This man was a traitor, attempting to sell us out to the enemy. Is that something we would stand for?”

“No!” Rowan shouted with the crowd. Her voice stung Leandro’s ears.

“No, of course not. Naturally, our agent struck him down before he could pose any real threat. I hope I don’t have to explain that this should serve as a warning to all of you. We must have an abundance of caution--one betrayal like his, without proper action by our agents, could lead to the destruction of our group and ourselves. I’d like to recognize the brave _león_ that prevented that outcome last night.”

“Was it Leandro?” Henare called through cupped hands.

“It was indeed our own Leandro Hernández,” Alzina said, visibly struggling not to snicker. “Come up here, Leandro. Let’s applaud him, everyone.” She beckoned to Leandro, motioning him to stand as the room filled with vigorous, echoing applause. He complied, catching Rowan beaming at him from the corner of his eye. He heard Henare’s voice rising above the rest as he passed his friend, then Petra’s, much higher-pitched but equally enthusiastic. As he stepped onto the platform, Alzina held out her hand, and he took it unthinkingly. He faced the crowd, staring out into the faces of his friends and allies. He thought he might be sick.

“Not only did Leandro save us all from enemy infiltration, but through him, we gained allies last night. How many of you know the name Hiroshi Kogane?” Alzina asked. The crowd’s cheering faltered. Leandro winced. Oh, God. Why did Hiroshi need to be dragged into this? Couldn’t that particular information have stayed between him and the three people he’d told, instead of over a hundred? “Are you confused? Don’t be. Leandro met this brave pilot himself, and confirmed that he spent time among the Galra. He possesses crucial knowledge of Galra strategy, and we will become wiser and stronger due to it!” Alzina cried, yanking Leandro’s hand up with her own. The crowd screamed. Leandro felt his knees shake, just slightly. Would it be rude to walk offstage now? It probably would.

“Leandro,” Alzina said. “Tell them how it feels to aid your fellow _leones_ on the path to victory.”

Leandro swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “I did what I had to,” he said. Rainer’s eyes appeared in his head again, flashing with primal fear. “You all would have done the same. We’re strong people; that’s why the Galra haven’t killed us yet. And they’re not gonna, right?” He let the crowd shriek ‘no’ for a few moments, blinking rapidly. “No. We’re tougher than that. Earth is tougher than that. No matter what we have to do, no matter what we have to sacrifice, we’re going to win. I’m proud to stand with you all until we get there.” Leandro licked his lips, sucking in a deep breath. “ _Que no tenga miedo a la vida, ni a la muerte._ ”

A hundred voices repeated the vow in unison. Leandro felt it in his bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leandro: I met hiroshi!!!!!  
> everyone: lmao yeah right  
> leandro: no really guys. I met him and he's shredded
> 
> Thanks for reading~~ ;)))

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Que no tenga miedo a la vida, ni a la muerte = Do not fear life, nor death.  
> Malinchista = Someone who prefers a foreign culture to their own; named for La Malinche, an indigenous woman who helped Cortés conquer the Aztec Empire by acting as his translator and advisor.


End file.
